So I think maybe I'll start sharing some of my lyrics, poetry, and writings. Warning that some of it can get a little blue but that's what the censor tools on message boards are for. Some of this is gonna be recorded for my music project, Winter Syndrome. I've got kind of a backlog so I'll try and post continuously. Be kind.-

South Federal Abattoir

Long flow brown hair in blue evening mist. Sirens wail through chilly air with smoke and sparked night flowers. She sleeps with the knife under her pillow. The blade meant for rending flesh; protection from the pushers that have tried to come in before on more than one occasion. From where I’m standing it takes approximately 25 minutes for the police to arrive. The station is four blocks away and looks like a Mayberry relic plucked out of time and put in the city’s darker underbelly. We walked past the stores offering sin and the illusion of protection on our way to Sheridan in the moonlight. The eggshell crackle of vials underfoot echoed from dead shells of men stalking the back alley ways. “Hey,” she asked with a deadpan tone all at once unsettling and boring. “Let’s stop in at the plant before we reach my mother’s house.” Walking through the back into the packing plant, the air was filled with light, carnality, and what
passes for eroticism these days. Despite the boxes on the shelves and what was hanging from the walls, the smell of mall retail filled what passed for air, intermixed with fog and astronaut substances. A star was going to be born that night. “I’ll have a Phillip and three-fifths of Herman” she told clerk who promptly stuffed her choice cuts in a paper bag and slowly returned to his previous activity of arranging a junk deal with a man in a dark coat standing to his right. “He’s not interested in anything choice” I observed aloud as he callously flicked parts of Wanda and Karen that were lying across glass counter. “Samples for the customers” she replied shortly before the night air stabbed us again. Good in the nose, bad between the ribs. The bag was promptly smuggled past her mother and into her sock drawer. “Vegetarians” she said with nose upturned and neck arched as if holding back venom. I’ve always hated staring at
shaggy brown carpet that gives off the smell of steamed rice and shrimp; clear symptom of cheap vacuuming; less so as I lay on her bed feeling her fingers digging deep into my bare back. Her fingers traced reminders and asked me to tell stories that I had no interest in telling. The glaring light was a punch of 60’s suburbia gone wrong and old. The tension eased and I seized slightly as her large fingers bit past relaxing muscle and into smooth muscle in one place and connective tissue between ribs in another. After wild and shame we stepped onto the porch and walked as crushed butts cushioned our feet and watched the skies grow darker. The smell of cooking from the chain-linked houses, a scene of togetherness at a time when the passerby must be steel for flesh risks rending. We sat on the tree-lined step, cold and biting. She leaned back and into the recess formed between us and I wrapped my hands around her middle, her body quivered and
melted as my hands lightly brushed her center. I did this more out of habit and obligation than any true emotion. That realization brought me a feeling of shame, the kind that can be brushed away as one does with a smoke ring or cobweb but nonetheless returns to linger upon return home. It returns to say hello when you’re flossing or pissing or trying to sleep or giving your future a rinse in the shower. Is she my Phillip, Herman, or Wanda? Then again, morality is relative, especially in regards to a beautiful and tender woman who names her sex toys after old boyfriends. I’m sure some former love of my life is violating her pussy and ******* with my namesake right now while thinking about someone else and me the none the wiser transitive victim of hot self ****. We all need our pound of flesh sometimes. “Is your life a meat house?” I asked. She looked at me with a question on her brow and began singing Negative Trend. “I just got
back from the meat house, the got all our heroes hanging there!” Serenaded by breathy woman, the words of Mikal Waters and Rik L. Rik came out as steam and rang the bell choir. “I took a look into that meat house, they hang up all the heroes there!” My right hand arched and its fingers found the familiar strings in the air. My left hand flipped the selector to the center for bridge and neck full circuit and turned the tone to 8. My foot found the simulator and cranked the tubes warm butt killed the phase. This wasn’t 60’s free love flower pedal angel feather children run through tall grass. This was cold and crusted artery junk slaughter truth. Two people hanging on racks rocked the meat house at night. They moved so slow. So slow they moved.

__________________Land of the free, home of the brave...
Do you think we will ever be saved?
In this land of dreams find myself sober...
Wonder when will it'll all be over...
Living in a void when the void grows colder...
Wonder when it'll all be over?
Will you be laughing when it's over?

It burned going all the way down, and then I threw up. We were playing our games and I started to play and we drank some fairy and washed it all down. But it still smelled. Jake beat me 4 times but I still won 3. Because I ate his brownie and I took the paper in my mouth. The fairy smoothed my brain and the bottle went back under the pillow. Jay came in with a boot mark on his face. He saw it and didn’t know where it came from. He said “When I drink and pee backwards while walking, I turn invisible.” We said we’d find the guy. We’d find the **** who jumped Jay. That ****. That dirty ****. He was going to get it, that damn dirty ****.
Jake and I would wrestle the wily hydrant. The evil that jumped him when he was being invisible down the curve of Broadway sneered at us in the cold air. Jake and Sophie jumped first. That damn dirty grimy **** was going to pay. They were beaten. I went next and was immediately flung to the ground, white grass crunchy. Roger came at it with a wrench. We all got soaked and I ate a brownie and it burned and so did the paper. Then I threw up.
The philosophers of sin ponder an age old question: How do you avenge a man who got kicked in the face by a fire hydrant? Wet and satisfied, Jay unzipped his pants, turned around, and became invisible again all over the grass, up the railing, and off the bridge. Soaked and triumphant, we skipped towards the hot showers, but first a drink of fairy to warm us after our fight with the fire hydrant that kicked Jay in the face.

__________________Land of the free, home of the brave...
Do you think we will ever be saved?
In this land of dreams find myself sober...
Wonder when will it'll all be over...
Living in a void when the void grows colder...
Wonder when it'll all be over?
Will you be laughing when it's over?

How many pieces of silver?
The liability of man
What will you do when the white curtain finally falls?
Will you laugh or move or both?
How many quanta of human suffering is audible to you?
Land of the free, home of the brave
Land from where they flee, home to only slave
Why live life sleeping atop an oven?
When it’s much warmer and there’s more food inside of one
Walls protect from the elements
Work gives you something to do
Faith gives you morality through fear
And fear through morality
Fear through mortality
The fearful serve those who don’t fear
And are controlled by those who fear and serve the fearful
Is this living?
Is this real?
Ashes to ashes, death to death
Cancer to cancer, breath to breath
Is this living?
Is this real?
Is this living really?
Is this living really?
Is this?
Is this?
Is this?
Is?

__________________Land of the free, home of the brave...
Do you think we will ever be saved?
In this land of dreams find myself sober...
Wonder when will it'll all be over...
Living in a void when the void grows colder...
Wonder when it'll all be over?
Will you be laughing when it's over?

Spinning through the corner of this color filled gyre
I only want my Earthlight back and then to my surprise
Its life is too alight
I want but I can’t
I want but I can’t
I want but I can’t
I want but I can’t

It was 4 pm on a Friday before I decided that I could no longer stand at the edge peering down dimly and wondering what could possibly occur. It’s not that the answer eluded me. I just didn’t feel the need to acknowledge it until I was close to being swallowed

I want but I can’t
I want but I can’t
I want but I can’t

__________________Land of the free, home of the brave...
Do you think we will ever be saved?
In this land of dreams find myself sober...
Wonder when will it'll all be over...
Living in a void when the void grows colder...
Wonder when it'll all be over?
Will you be laughing when it's over?